blastiafreak

[The transmission quality is iffy at best but among some static is the sound of a startled cry drowned out by a splash. A few muttered words, unintelligible over the poor connection, then a very, very long period of silence follows.]

...Wha...W-What--WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?

[Rita reaches an impressively high pitch with that shriek, even with the static.]

[ooc: Shard plot! Rita is in Oz's shard of the abyss and...very freaked out.]

::malfunctioned private filter-->public::
[It's a gruesome scene: a person, shuddering uncontrollably and on the verge of death while hooked up to a strange machine. Rita hovers nearby and is lacking any kind of care for her failing and whimpering subject.]

Stop whining, already. It's not like the pain's going to stop. Ah-

[The blastia core she's fiddling with emits a bright burst of light; simultaneously, the human battery spasms violently, coughs foamy blood, then goes still. The light persists for a few seconds before it, too, fades. Rita doesn't even blink, a curious gleam in her eyes.]

Hm, that wasn't bad--Subject number 0027 lasted 36 hours with output increased by 13 percent. Shortening the duration definitely gives an increase in power, just as expected. Possible relationship to subject age; should run tests on subjects under 10 years.

[She distractedly mutters the conclusion to the device, then nods to herself.]

Time to dispose of this thing and start on the next one.

::filtered to Raven//hackable::

You're way overdue for maintenance, Schwann. I suggest you come by at some point if you know what's good for you.

( ooc notes )

[The screen is focused on Rita, who is approaching along the beach from several dozen feet away. The communicator itself is sitting pretty on the doorstep of the beach house, like a puppy waiting for its owner. Or not.

However, Rita herself is covered in smudges of dirt from head to toe. It appears she's been out all night, doing...something. As she notices the device, she glares at it.]

Again? This isn't even a surprise anymore.

[That's all she says to it as she rather angrily and forcefully punches the buttons to turn it off, heading inside the house.

ooc: Backdated to very early morning! Following this, she got a bit worried. Someone has dug up Estelle's "grave" and having found nothing, is both pissed off and somewhat relieved. And may also seem slightly suspicious, but she swears she doesn't have a brain slug.

Also, off to work soon, so replies will come in a few hours.]